Snow in the summer, Warmth in the winter
by LadyDi
Summary: '...Maybe out here, in this place, I could forget and FORGIVE myself, if only for a little while...' 'Whatever this boy meant to me, friend or something I couldn't remember, he had to be SOMETHING to chip away at the winter frost nestled in my veins.'
1. Snow in the summer

There was nothing in the world ANYONE could say that would make me forget the horrible atrocities I've committed. Sure, we're in the middle of a galaxy-wide war, and it's brother against brother, but basic rules should still apply. Though, what those ARE, the doctors CONVENIENTLY forgot to tell us five.

Well...four now. My eyes blur, mostly on their own. I tried to hide it, to stifle it, but sometimes humans just can't control their own emotions. I am no exception. Even though I thought I was.

What can I say? It just hurts too much to think about. But at the same time, it's ALL I can think about.

Hands touched my head, and I barely recognize they are mine. My actions seem unnoticed, even though I'm the one carrying them out.

Fingers rub my temples, as if trying to move the pain in my head somewhere else in my body. Make it easier to deal with. But also, at the same time, I don't want to make things easier on myself. I deserve this hell, even though I can't say I do. I don't WANT it, but I know it's the punishment I DESERVE. How can that be such a paradox?? 

A quiet, regrettable sigh. When did things get so complicated? When did **I** get so complicated? Why did my mindset have to change from something that was once so clear to me, into someone caring and kind? I was so sure of everything in my life, that's all I needed to know. Then it changed and I've never been the same...

My jaw clenches as tears tried to fall past my eyes. Even shut, they gathered behind my lids. I won't cry, I harshly tell myself. Crying is NOT going to change things, no matter how much I want it to. Crying will only temporarily relieve the pain, but it'll be back when I am done. Things won't change. I have to remind myself of that...and hope I can accept things as they are now.

Still, they slip past the corners of my eyes, slowly dripping down my skin. I barely feel it, barely feel ANYTHING. The wind on Earth ruffles the lace at my neck, but I barely feel that either.

When did I become so numb? Just before I regained my 'proper' mindset again? When I realized what I'd done? It seems so long ago that I can't even remember correctly. 

My head droops against the weight of such a tired brain. Everything felt so heavy all of a sudden, and sleep seemed to beckon me to its open arms. Into comforting, peaceful darkness...

My eyes snap open with a sudden all-encompassing panic that forces my head up and my limbs away from the balcony railing.

As if running for my life, I left the natural outdoors and my room. Not the darkness, my mind pleaded, not again! To fall into that...what if I hurt someone else?? I can't forgive myself NOW...how would I change that if I lost the fight within me?? I would die inside more than I have already. 

I didn't even know where my legs were taking me until I nearly stumble upon something I didn't even see. I blindly look down, not really seeing until I force my eyes to focus. A tree root. Apparently I was so consumed by fear and pain, and the all-knowing numbing sadness, that my body carried me outside. How did THAT happen? And how did no one not notice me in such an apparent state? There were plenty of people swarming the large area, but yet no one stopped me. Or perhaps, no one WISHED to stop me...

My head shook. Did it really matter? ...What DID anymore? With that thought in mind, taking over everything I previously thought, tears burn again.

No! I won't let them escape! In the privacy of my room I might be able to let these things slip into the emptiness that surrounds me, MAYBE let tears fall without shame and guilt. But outside, with people to see and question, I won't be anything but the polished gentleman people have come to believe I am. I won't endure their questions without breaking down completely.

A soft, scornful snort as I look into the blue skies of early afternoon. A polished gentleman, yea RIGHT... If people only saw who I was and how I acted BEFORE the war, maybe they'd look at me with pity instead. More so than now. When I found something to believe. My head drops from the returning weight. At least I THOUGHT I did...

Heels dig into my eyes, trying to block it all out. When did I start to think this way? Why wouldn't it STOP? There seemed no end to the questions and perturbed things my mind could think up. Life, as I began to cherish, seemed to hold no meaning once again. I was back where I started. Now that the only person I considered a good friend, possibly my first and BEST friend, was gone.

No...not gone... It was still so hard for me to believe he was dead. To be dead was permanent. To just say 'gone' would put that at a maybe status. It wasn't 'for sure', and it wasn't quite so painful as this. 

I knew it was only this painful because I did it myself. I brought this pain onto myself as a sort of penance for what I did. I killed the one person I considered my best friend, and was reciprocated in turn. Though he never showed emotion, his eyes were my answer. His long-trained soldier instincts softened whenever we were together. I didn't mind, even though it let in room for mistakes on missions. But that didn't matter. It just meant I didn't have to be alone for a brief amount of time. I was alone for so long in my life, never considering myself much of anything...to find someone that felt the same way and could RELATE to how I felt was a gift from Allah.

And now...he was...gone.

With a small shake, knowing I was still unable to accept this horrible turn of events, which was probably normal, I continue to let my feet take me wherever they wanted. I amble around outside, feeling the quietness of nature, but minutely comforted by the sounds of birds and ruffling of leaves. It was all so peaceful...hadn't I been that way at a time? Yes I had...with HIM.

Hands clasped behind my back, head down, my jaw clenched. This tirade was NEVER going to end if I didn't find something productive to occupy my time. But it was early afternoon and classes were out for lunch. A small smile tipped my lips, a rarity. I doubt I listened to anything said in class, since my mind wouldn't stop now. What made me think it would stop LATER? This would ALWAYS plague me until I found a means to end it. How do you find closure, when you realize you're a murderer? Unintentional...but the ends don't justify the means. 

Something blew into my line of vision, tickling my nose where it landed. Shaking my head, a small piece of white fluff slowly fell and soon blew with the continuing breeze. Looking at my surroundings and taking them in for the first time, I look around and blink in awe and wonder.

The first thing that came to my mind was that it was snowing. SNOWING? In the middle of SPRING?? The temperature was too warm for THAT to happen, and these fluffs of white didn't quickly fall to the ground and melt. With narrowing, thoughtful eyes, I walk to the nearest cluster against a tree trunk and squat to see better. It didn't melt, but gathered in loose clumps that still blew and shifted with the wind. How ODD...

It was a delightful puzzle I wholly embraced. 

"Quatre?" 

Startling, I quickly stand and whirl around. I felt a lot better, if not a little embarrassed by my actions, to find my reason for being here.

"Relena..." I quietly greet, hoping I safely tuck everything away.

Maybe being around Heero too much helped me to do that, but it felt safer to keep her concern to a minimum. She had too much on her shoulders to add my problems to hers. I wouldn't LET her make them her own. 

"What're you doing?" She asked, a small smile on her lips. "I saw you leave to the gardens and you looked a little preoccupied. Is something wrong?" 

Nothing that your search won't cure. But to say that would expel my problems and dump them to the wad she already dealt with. I wasn't going to open my mouth and be so obvious, even if my emotions already were. Instead, a distraction, something to take BOTH our minds off the problems in our lives... Ahh...something that burned in my brain already.

"What is this?" I reach down and grab part of the shifting fluff, finding it easily crushed in my palm. It weighed nothing and I force a loose fist to keep from squashing such a unique thing. 

She stopped and picked a piece from my hand. With careful fingers, she brought it close to inspect.

"Ahh, the cotton seeds are falling already." She idly commented, eyes pleased. Her fingers stretched to the air and opened, sending the seed flying away with the breeze.

Opening my palm, I let them slowly fly off my hand, watching with small carefree.

"This is cotton?" I ask, amused and intrigued at such a beautiful thing. It was so odd to see the clothes I was wearing were made from this substance. 

She nodded. "Yes, there're cottonwood trees around here somewhere..." Her gaze lifted to the limbs above us, sunlight cutting through.

With the small seeds flying around us, sticking to our hair and clothes, it seemed like a mystical land and not the real world. It was very beautiful and I was glad to see something untouched from the hostile world of war.

"There's one...and another there..."

I look where she pointed, having never seen such a tree shape. On the colonies, there were mostly maple and oak, or such trees that didn't 'litter' the ground as these were doing. The colonies were made out of order and precision. To have cottonwood seeds flying everywhere would make a great annoyance for everyone, and it would destroy such meticulous gardening. 

But only on their end. Having grown up on the colonies, even with the busy childhood I had, this fascinated and pleased me greatly. If only EVERYONE could see such magic.

I suddenly realize such a simple thing of nature kept my thoughts from turning melancholy and gave me a perfectly good, if short, distraction from my sadness. I smile and look to the trees, eyes shining with gratitude. It was a small release and I DID feel a little more at peace, even if thinking about Trowa brought along pain as well... Out here, with such an odd twist of nature, brought me a feeling of deep serenity that I never felt before. It was nice. If only to stay out here for eternity... 

"Quatre?" 

My attention regrettably jerked back to the present a second time, and my hostess.

"Yes Relena?" I gave an apologetic smile, though I didn't really mean it. One glance into her eyes found her just as enthralled as I was with this beauty.

The seeds continued to fall around us, some falling into her hair. It made me smile, knowing her purposely pristine person would be a little messy upon returning inside. And she wouldn't even know it. 

"Did you want to talk about it?" 

If she knew what 'it' was, then she knew how I felt already. One look into my eyes would tell her that. But talking about it wouldn't make things any easier in the end. It was like crying, it only dampened the situation until I was alone and realized, once again, how horrible I acted and what I did to my best friend.

With a small shake, I deny her help.

"Thank you, but no thank you Relena." The small smile appeared again as I look around. The Sanc mansion seemed to disappear with as deep into the forest as we were in. It almost DID appear like I stepped into a fairytale. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stay out here a while longer." 

She gave a compassionate look, and I knew she understood my pain, even though no words were spoken. That was a gift she seemed to have. It must be what she used to judge Heero on...since she thought him no threat by her actions.

"Then I'll leave you with the trees." She inanely joked, a hand resting on my shoulder. She gave a quick, meaningful squeeze, which almost brought tears to my eyes.

We knew each other through the wrong methods, but the right purpose. Maybe, if things were different, we could be even closer than we were now. But for now...this would have to suffice. Not saying goodbye, she turned and silently walked back up the dirt path. 

Now left alone, I feel as if the previously dark thoughts that kept my mind prisoner were a little easier to bear. Why WAS that? Could it be that I was out in nature? Trowa held an ability to charm animals. He had something inside him that captured their trust. He never expressed his love of nature, but it was clear in his actions.

Those thoughts in mind, I walk to the closest cottonwood and sat next to the trunk, leaning against it. Arms resting over drawn knees, I look around as the 'snow' continued to fall. It was so beautiful, in an age-old, simplistic way. I lived here for a week at least; how did I miss such majesty? 

It did no good to dwell on such matters, since I was here now and calmed more than I thought possible. If only Trowa were here to see this...

My lips pressed together as such a harsh emotion of sorrow sears my heart and almost made it hard to breathe. My throat clogs. I will NOT cry, I tell myself again. Crying does no good... No good at all...

The tears came anyway and I decided to let them. They were going to whether I held them back or not, so who was I to keep such things inside me? After all, the logical side of me pointed out, it'll continue to build until it consumes you anyway. Just like it did when you lost your mind... 

NO. Thinking about THAT incident would cause more tears and bring more grief and guilt than I knew was possible a single person could feel.

My head rests against the bark, feeling it through my hair. I didn't care if I looked a mess when I returned. For some odd reason, I was comfortable in this position.

My eyes drop to my school shoes, still wearing my uniform. Nothing seemed to matter once again. Old habits die hard I guess... But I knew things were this way once again due to someone OTHER than myself. It would just take time to get over it, as it did with any sad, and horrible event. But...

Red rimmed, teary eyes took in the falling seeds, seeing them gently travel, as if they had all the time in the world. ...Maybe out here, in this place, I could forget and FORGIVE myself, if only for a little while... 


	2. Warmth in the winter

Have you ever felt so cold, that a single drop of warmth felt like burning heat? That is what I feel like, though I have not been able to feel that shred of warmth. It's almost forbidden to me somehow. This all-knowing cold is encompassed more by fright and the pain of not knowing who you are and WHAT you are...that you have no idea. It kills you the most.

It is a scary thing to be alive and not know anything about yourself. To be in an area you could've grown up in and not retain a single detail about the place. It's the things nightmares are made out of, but you can't simply run away from it. It sticks to you, stays INSIDE you, and you're helpless in its grasp. 

What makes me THINK this way? Why DO I think this way? I seem to have it made, or so I thought. I'm alive, and in some odd way, I'm mildly relieved at that. But the details of why elude me, frustrating me to no end. I can't find answers, no matter HOW long I try to find them.

Along with being alive, I have a stable life, a place to call home, and someone who cares about me. Isn't that really what life is all about? Stability and love? I wish I knew. It seems like I should have more somehow...like I should KNOW more. 

There're times when it desperately feels like this entire life I live is a lie. I don't know HOW a life can be a lie, could be a false application of something. It struck me in my mind recently and refuses to leave. It also plagues me with more questions than I want to ask, than I care to think about.

What am I supposed to think this means? It can't be a sign, other than I spend too much time doing nothing and WAY too much over-thinking. As far as my sister is concerned, I'm not busy enough.

A small smile appears, purely amusement, but partly out of love. My big sister, my life. She helps me whenever I feel like a frost has taken over my veins. My eyes narrow as that thought is contemplated. Ah...the frost. It's the only way I can think to explain it. I don't know the details of THAT, but it feels like there's something so familiar about being so cold... 

But that's absurd, I know. How can the cold be familiar? I've never traveled to cold areas... The nights have never been utterly freezing where we travel... Then what can I say to explain that wry, odd comment?

A quick, almost mirthful shake swished my odd hairstyle. There's nothing I CAN say to explain such a thing. Thoughts come to me as unbidden as the strangest instances in my life. It is odd that I think so much, since it seems prohibited. But I don't know WHY... A person has a right to think, don't they? 

A quick walk from the tent reveals nightfall. A brow rises when I realize my thinking has become more involved in my spare time. There're things to do, packing that needs to be done for tomorrow.

My eyes stop on a fire barrel not too far from my tent and I walk to it, eyes locked to the red and yellow flames. They're almost hypnotic the way they dance in the cool breeze. And somehow, I feel comforted by being close to the heat, by staring at the red and yellow. Red and yellow...

An intense shiver, probably one of my worse 'spells', overtook me. I huddle closer to the fire, nearly touching my sweater to the flames in my haste to warm up. The cold has nothing to do with the temperature, though it IS a tad cold outside. I don't notice that as much as I do this internal frost, and the sudden unlocked gate that sent my mind in a flurry of observation. 

_Fire. It's all around me. Red and yellow, but not from the flames. The heat isn't felt. In fact, I'm quite far from it. My hands grip something, but what I can't be certain. The feel is imprinted in my hands and when I close my eyes, it almost feels like I'm touching it. The area around me means nothing, though I don't recognize the place. It's practically a burnt cinder. Somehow, I know I was the one responsible for the inferno. Me...and the beast I rode in. _

Beast?

My eyes jerk open and stare at the fire until it hurt to do so. What beast is red and yellow? Why do I recall being so high from the ground, yet not afraid, that it seemed like second nature?

My eyes squeeze shut as the odd memory sank into the recesses of my mind, locked shut in their depths. Almost dishearten by going back to this current, pleasant life I hold, I turn away from the fire barrel and to my tent. It would do no good to dwell on it, I figure. Dwelling on things that frustrated my docile nature was only going to get me a concerned look from Cathy.

I look to her tent, and vow that she wouldn't have to worry herself so much over my well-being anymore. She did so much for me already, as if she were worried for me more than she needed to be. I knew there was a war going on; I wasn't THAT blind to the outside. Thinking or hearing of the war changes my mannerisms, though I couldn't remember being a participant. It gave me a bold assertion that I never felt inside the circus. 

Going back to the dark inside of my tent, I flop on my bed, my rampant mind not giving up anytime soon. If there was a REASON for all of this, I might as well find the source of the problem so I could get SOME sleep tonight. Though, for another eluding reason, I don't seem to need much.

Staring at the ceiling, also contemplating why I always wake in the middle of the night feeling refreshed, hands prop behind my head. It was all so odd, to feel as though I wasn't myself, and was at the same time. How could you not be yourself? That was the oddest question to cross my mind, yet it had some strength in the strangeness. 

I turn to one side and stare at the canvas at the other edge. Why couldn't I remember anything other than a few weeks ago? Surely I could remember SOMETHING from my childhood, or even adolescence. When I asked Cathy if she'd share something with me, a funny memory or even a sad one, she only chastised me about being lazy and sent me to work. Even though I did as she wished, wondering if what I ask was too much for her to bear, I always caught a worried, sorrowful look. As if directed my way and not on the question I asked. But how could that be? What would my sister have to be worried about? She wouldn't lose me, since we're all we have. 

I never knew she had a temper, as was typical for redheads. I always thought that an old wife's tale. Catherine was so happy and boisterous. But not too long ago, she became truly angry. I couldn't help but listen, ready to make the person sorry they ever made my sister mad. But...that person...the things he SAID...

My eyes squeeze shut. Possibly the worst frost overtook me during that visit. Catherine helped me, as she always did, but I only stared at the black clothed visitor in silent pleading and hopeful recognition. It sure SEEMED like I knew him...

What was his name again? Fingers press against my head, wishing to recall something that I KNEW I knew. He seemed sorry, as if he were overly concerned for me. His eyes showed it.

His eyes. I never met a person with violet eyes until that day. 

What was his NAME?! It still eluded me. Thinking about it did no better. My palms absently rub together, finding them chilled. Chilled? How could my hands be cold when I was clad in a turtleneck? But as much as I wore, no matter the thickness of my sweater, I still felt cold in my veins. It was as if I stepped into an ice lake and couldn't shake off the effects. Or was standing in the middle of a raging blizzard with no way to escape.

The thought didn't comfort me, and only increased the cold. Shivers overtook me once again, so close to the last time. What did THAT mean? I huddle into the tightest ball that I could manage, even covering my frame with the comforter on my bed.

Cold...I was so COLD...

The chills wracked my body, chattering my teeth, and spasming my muscles in the hopes for retaining a little warmth. Eyes squeeze shut, visions came rushing back again.

_The long braid. Violet eyes. Shorter than me, but with a wit and optimism that surpassed us all._

Us? Who was US? My mind didn't answer, it just kept showing me things I didn't know I experienced.

_The youth brought someone with him, someone I immediately felt sorry for with no explanation as to WHY. He held the look of sorrow in his eyes, even though he wouldn't meet mine._

_Blonde hair. Well dressed. His name was just out of reach, as was the other. He spoke my name, and his eyes held hope of recognition, just as mine once did. I didn't know him then, and I STILL don't know him. But...why do I feel as if I DID? What IS this feeling? _

Along with the memories came feelings that I never thought I experienced. Ever.

What were the names of these feelings? What were their given names?

An odd sensation in my stomach was mildly unpleasant, but wanted at the same time. These emotions were churning there... I craved it, but didn't know why. It unnerved me to a point where I wanted to crawl from my tent and hide from this newest turn of events. Even though I was scared at all the things unveiling inside my body and mind, I embraced them. Somehow, they were a part of me. Even though I didn't know, I still kept them inside somehow. Sometime in my life, I HAD to've met these people, stood next to them, fought alongside them.

My eyes jerk open. Fought!? 

The episode finally subsided when I was startled by that small announcement. It was like turning the off switch to a faucet. Curious.

Regaining my composure seemed second nature again, though I didn't know why. That simple, three lettered word was severely ANNOYING. Not having information about my life suddenly angered me to a point that surprised me. Hadn't I been ABLE to feel anger before now? Hadn't I been able to FEEL this before now?

The answer whispered in my head. No... I immediately accept that, though I didn't question its whereabouts for the first time tonight.

Standing from my bed as if someone else, I quietly walk from the tent with my usual grace. Stoic faced, I stop in front of the fire and stare at it with hard eyes. Everyone else had vacated by now, though I wasn't amazed. My episodes sometimes lasted a while. 

I stare at the flames, memorized again, but as if I wasn't the me who lived at the circus and had a sister named Catherine. I feel an instinctual power from somewhere as I was able to concentrate.

Red and yellow... Those colors never held much meaning, until tonight. Heat pressed to my skin, but I knew it was cold to the touch. I was a winter storm, my insides frostbitten. How long would I remain this cold?

My eyes close. Perhaps the rest of my life? Would I ever remember my life then? Would ANY of this make sense? 

The flames cast a small, yellowish haze against the black behind my lids. Yellow...blondish yellow. The boy.

Emerald snaps open and I continue to stare at the flames again, feeling sure of myself for a split second. Yes...I knew that sorrowful boy. He seemed so kind, and so sad that I didn't remember him at the time, or seemed to hold any connection to him. What made me remember? It could've been the simple fact that my spells appeared to come in shorter gaps. That had to mean SOMETHING. 

My eyes close again with the intent to picture his face, hoping that would jog another spell...and more memories. He was easy to picture, those odd blue eyes full of pain. His features were sharp as a tack in my memory. I had a good memory, nearly impeccable.

My brow furrows in minutely concentration, though it was true. I DID have a good memory. Nearly photographic. Apparently, it was choosing NOW to be selective.

His face still showed up despite the inane musings and my odd humor. I didn't really HAVE a sense of humor; that was Duo's department.

My eyes jerk open.

Duo? His face flashed in my memory and I connect them. It just SOUNDED right. I run the name over my tongue, whispering it in the quiet. Yes...that was who visited me and jogged the cold spell. But who was the OTHER? He was important; it was important I remember his name. I was certain if I did, the pieces would come together faster. They would come together PERIOD. 

Hands shoved into my jeans pockets. My eyes close and I picture his face, seeing a kind and gentle person instead of a sad, depressed one. Yes...he had been kind once.

My brow furrow again, these unbidden thoughts coming out of nowhere. It intrigued me that a single person could turn my world upside down in the matter of a day. But, I felt as if he already had. He and I...we were friends?

Friends. I ran that in my mind, and it felt right. This unnamed boy and I were friends from some other place and time. If I would ever see him again, I'd be sure to ask him about it, when Cathy wasn't present.

As if reaching an agreement over some invisible knowledge, knowledge that was slowly slipping away into my mind again, I look back to the fire. It still blew in the night wind, but not as much from time. It was dying out, signaling that I, once again, spent too much time thinking. But this was more productive than trying to respond to questions I had no answers to.

Feeling my old self again, I slowly turn to my tent for the last time, intent to get some sleep. 

It didn't hit me until I rested on my bed and habitually pulled the covers to my chin to ward off the inner cold. Thinking about the blond boy and the returned memories did something to me. Something GOOD.

On a rare instance, I take the covers and shove them to my waist, where they rested. Remembering that boy and those unbidden thoughts in my mind did more than help me remember and piece together small bits of an incredibly large puzzle. I didn't notice it at first, so intent on remembering, but the cold wasn't so much. I wasn't so cold anymore.

With a small, almost grateful smile, my eyes close. Whatever this boy meant to me, friend or something I couldn't remember, he had to be SOMETHING to chip away at the winter frost nestled in my veins. When the time came, if we were ever destined to meet again, I have to find a way to THANK him. 


End file.
